School killings: We Need To Talk About Kevin

No-one could have missed the news reports on the stabbing of teacher Ann Maguire as she taught a class, with a 15-year-old pupil charged for her murder. Such a horrifying and devastating thing to have happened, but in a world that is becoming more and more violent we can hardly be surprised that this would happen eventually. Throughout my time as a student a high school, I saw a pupil lose it with a teacher and hurl a table across the room at her, I saw teachers lose it with pupils and throw things at them. When at university I even heard about stabbings and twice was unable to get on or leave my campus because police were having a stand-off. I’m sure this is no different to many other schools and universities, in fact in many places I know it is far worse. What concerns me is why so many are turning immediately to violence to deal with their frustrations.

All this press brought a book and film back into my mind, one I read a few years ago but which still haunts me now. We Need To Talk About Kevin is a chilling tale of murder and love entwined, striking at the heart of parenthood by offering up the greatest test of unconditional love. It raises questions that no parent should ever have to ask themselves – such as whether the age of a child prevents them from blame over the seriousness of their crime, and whether in fact the parents are to blame. Lionel Shriver’s prizewinning 2003 novel is written in a series of letters from Eva, to her estranged husband, Franklin, in the wake of their son, Kevin’s disgusting crime. She looks at her son and writes about his childhood and her memories of him, trying desperately to see if there were things she should have noticed. If she could have prevented his later actions.

I watched the film after reading the book, and I was so glad to have done both. The film too is brilliant, but completely different to the book. It has been completely reworked by British director Lynne Ramsey who focuses on the question of what happens if bad children are born to good parents? And does this mean that the parents themselves are inherently bad and they just fail to realise it? Ramsey too follows Kevin’s short life up to the climax, showing some scenes of a disturbing nature but actually it is the acting and portrayal of Kevin by Ezra Miller that really haunts you. Tilda Swinton does an amazing job of exploring the internal and external struggles experienced by a parent whose child has committed murder as she comes to terms with what her own life, and Kevin’s has become. You see her struggles to realise that actually the son she had unconditional love for was an extremely rose-tinted view of reality, and her shock and fear as she realises that Kevin was not injured by the shooter, that he was the shooter.

It is also interesting to see her connection throughout both the book and the film with her baby – the relationship between her and Kevin is tested and difficult throughout with the clear understanding that she does not like her baby. It suggests she was suffering from post-natal depression and makes you wonder if this, which clearly sets the tone for their life-long relationship, was in fact the effect of her treatment and resentment for her baby in the first instance. Could she have influenced his behaviour by rejecting him so early? It does make you wonder if her understanding of his goading her and playing up as a child is in fact her own depression painting the way she views it. Could it be that in fact Kevin was just an innocent baby at birth and that his mother’s hatred of him caused him to turn into a monster? If not, does that mean he was a monster from birth?

Such an interesting story because it raises all those big questions about good and evil, nature vs nurture. The questions we squirm over answering because we don’t want to believe that someone could be born evil, but at the same time, society doesn’t ever want to believe in people reaching breaking point or parents being unable to cope. Although the telling of a fictional event, some have said it was based on real events such as the Columbine High School killings which makes it ever more terrifying, to know that this has really happened, and now just a few hours from where we all live in the UK.

The vicious nature of the crime is scary enough, but actually what scares me more in the film and book is the fact that Kevin is so calculating and clever. He is not that kid that is just pushed a bit too far by the bullies or doesn’t get on with his teacher, he is a cold-blooded psycho killer who plans the whole thing. I have a slight admission that I have always found the psychology of killers absolutely fascinating and love programmes like CSI and Luthor and films like Seven that delve into the killer psyche. I’m just so curious to know how some people can be wired so differently, or whether in fact this lurks in all of us, it just takes the right circumstance and experiences to bring it out and let it loose. I would really recommend this book because it is one of the best I have read of its type and despite reading it years ago, it has stayed with me ever since. The film is also worth a watch, but after reading the book because it does change the way you view the story significantly and actually I think there are parts of the film that didn’t quite make sense without the book to explain them.

 What did you think of We Need To Talk About Kevin and have you got any others like this you could recommend? Where do you stand on the nature vs nurture debate when it comes to evil acts like this?

An emotional trip to see what had risen from the rubble

One of the most poignant moments on the trip to New York was our visit to Ground Zero – I had personally been looking forward to seeing the changes made to the site since our last visit had shown one of the the newly erected buildings towering over rubble and the other just beginning to take shape. That visit alone was really something and after feeling so detached from the original attack due to my age and lack of knowledge, I found it a really powerful and emotional experience to walk between the buildings and see this enormous pile of rubble where those majestic buildings once stood. It was horrifying to think what it must have been like for the people in the buildings, nearby or anywhere in the city, knowing what was happening or having no clue and just being petrified.

The museum devastated me. I don’t even know how to explain it to anyone who hasn’t been – it is just the saddest place I have ever been and to hear the last calls made by people in the towers to their loved ones is just beyond anything I have experienced. Looking at pictures of the toppling towers and hearing those desperate and terrified voices as they took those last moments to express their love and fear just tore me apart and I was a mess afterwards. On that trip, it poured with rain as we walked around – quite suiting the mood.

On this trip, the new buildings were glinting with sunlight and rainbows bounced through the water pouring from the fountains. The grounds are now a very odd place to walk around, strangely peaceful but at the same time, still heartbreaking. The work continues and the new museum is yet to open, with a sculpture being created from the remnants of metal taken from the buildings’ original foundations. They ask for donations rather than charging people to visit, and there are maps available to find where different groups of people are remembered.

The names of all of those who were died in the North or South Tower collapse, or trying to save those trapped amongst the rubble, have all been remembered individually with their names engraved on each of the two fountains – the largest man-made waterfalls in North America – that now stand “within the footprints of where the Towers once stood”. As you can see above, their fire crews, ambulance crews or any other affiliation has also been recognised, and every year, on each of their birthdays, a white rose is placed in their name. This was the bit that really caught a lump in my throat. This is the bit that makes us realise this happened to real people and that their memory lives on in the families, children and loved ones who survived – the same ones who received the frantic messages in those last moments.

We arrived at the site just a few hours after midday and in the grounds there was also a sign stating that at lunchtime of that day, three 9/11 volunteers had completed a total of 2,983 hours of service to the memorial – with one hour dedicated to each of the names listed on the memorial. This was just one very small, but important part of the 37,500 hours that the entire 9/11 volunteer corps had amassed since the memorial’s opening on 9/11/11.

Have you been to the 9/11 memorial? Or to see the rubble that lay before? What was your experience like?

 

Pathetic Fallacy – it’s all news to me

Photo by John O’Nolan

Something that has always stuck in my mind, throughout studying English at school and then at university, are all those literary devices and the terminology for all of these – things like alliteration, hyperbole, dramatic irony and anthropomorphism. I think we had them drilled to us so much, and had to apply them to so many different texts that they have just stayed in my mind. One that I will always remember from those long nights spent studying dense texts and all that poetry is pathetic fallacy – when the mood of the character is reflected in the weather or inanimate objects.

I bring this up now because I have noticed of late, since I have been feeling a bit blue, that things around me seem to be mimicking how I am feeling inside. I don’t know if I am just more aware of the negatives that are always present, or whether there is more sadness around me, but either way something is going on. I have spent the last two weeks writing the most depressing collection of stories on a range of topics including two terminal brain tumours and terrible hospital care that has left a man to be fed through a tube. It is horrible to have to write such painful stories and really has challenged me as a journalist, but all I can think is how much this should be putting things in perspective for me when really it is just making me feel even more confused.

It’s just left me wondering whether this sudden influx of sad stories is just coincidence or whether the world really is just a cycle of energies and I just seem to be attracting the more negative stuff at the moment. I’m not really sure what I believe but could certainly do with some more upbeat and happy stories to cover now so if you are in Norfolk and have a tale to tell that will put a smile on my face, it would be much appreciated!

What do you think? Are we all releasing good and bad energies and in turn attracting them? Or is it all just in my head?

The tough side of being a journalist..

A few days ago, the mother of an old friend and ex-boyfriend posted this picture on his Facebook page. Another tribute paid to a fantastic young man who was still finding his way in the world, when a horrific and shocking accident struck him down in his prime. I was one of the first to hear the news when he had tripped while camping fallen on a huge knife used for cutting wood, and while in the woods, with his brother, he bled to death.

It was horrible and I’m getting a lump in my throat just thinking about it. Even now, more than half a year on, the thought still sends a wave of nausea over my body and the news hits me all over again. With family and friends scattered across the UK and Canada, it was difficult to pass the news on to others who, like myself, had grown up with him. While his body remained in Canada, his mother attending the funeral, we held a memorial service in his home town where old friends, family and school chums all came together and spoke of memories we shared of that crazy boy, before releasing purple balloons.

It was a very emotional day and really tough to see so many tear-stained faces there. His mother gave a beautiful speech about him and others spoke of their time with our dear friend. Despite losing others in years gone by, this was easily the most poignant loss, partly because this was the first time I was old enough to really register the loss, and because it was such a shock to us all.

There was another reason why – because this was the first time I had to report on a death that touched my life so much. As a journalist, I am used to dealing with death, horror stories and shocking news on a daily basis (as well as all the more feel-good stuff – it does balance out). I have been dealing with horrible accidents and death knocks almost since I first started and remember clearly reporting on the case of a three-year-old child that ran out into the road while at the town’s annual Mart (fair) and was hit by a car and died shortly after. I saw the accident happen and it was devastating to watch the family’s reaction, then a passer-by holding the little’ boy’s hand as he took his last breath. It was horrifying and I was in total shock, but the next day, I took a deep breath and headed into the office to report on the ‘story’. It was one of the hardest days at work that we have had for a long time, and I was reporting on it with a woman who has a little boy the same age.

It was definitely one of the worst stories I have ever had to write, but it was easily trumped when I had to write a tribute to a boy who used to be one of my best friends, and who was a huge part of my teen years. Having to chase up with the Canadian authorities the details of what happened to him and how the accident came about was hard. It was tough to hear them talk about him as a case rather than as my friend, but I battled through it. Being a journalist is difficult because once you release that part of your mind, you are constantly looking for the story in everything. When you are trying to comfort the family and friends of the deceased, it is tough not to listen out for the quotes and the introduction to your story. It is not heartless, just amazing training coming into play. But the last thing you want in this situation.

It became easier after the memorial service, when I saw his mother alone to put together a tribute piece to him. It was a tearful afternoon but was filled with laughter at lovely memories and it really helped me. It helped me to come to terms with the fact that my friend was really gone, but also to know that he would never just disappear as long as we all remember him. It also helped me to write a fantastic tribute that really did justice to the type of person he was, and I hope that all of his friends agreed.

This is the first time I have managed to speak about this in so much detail since it happened and I hope that I have used my friend as a way of illustrating that journalists actually do a very hard job – particularly if they live in the patch they cover and have to report on loved ones in terrible situations. Not all journalists are heartless, many, like myself, become completely involved in their area and genuinely love it. We live each moment of pride and failure for our town and form strong bonds with the people who live there. Journalism is not just a trade, or a job, it is a lifestyle and a decision to become a huge part of your local community.

But we like the noise!!

Once again councils have got involved with something that should not really concern them. For one weekend a year, in a few fields in the middle of nowhere, what is really the problem? Should we all tip-toe and whisper like librarians?

This festival was amazing last year and part of the reason why was because it attacked your senses, all of them. The bass was incredible, the sights were astonishing and everything else just blew your mind. Stop putting the kibosh on our fun.

Boomtown Fair licence under review over noise levels

Noise complaints investigated

Journalism: What’s it really all about?

“It is one of the professional tasks of newspapers to unmask the fraudulent and the scandalous. It is in the public interest to do it. It is a job which newspapers have done time and time again in their long history.”

Lord Justice Lawton

How Instagram took over the world in just three years – and how I am a total addict!

How Instagram took over the world in just three years

I’m Lucy, and I’m addicted to Instagram.

I’ve always been an avid photo-taker. On nights out, I was always the one who caught every moment on camera and my friends dreaded the eventual upload of the pictures to Facebook. But the discovery of Instagram has definitely encouraged this habit, not just on nights out, but in everyday life! Now, although not big on selfies, I am constantly updating my Instagram with pictures of myself, my friends and whatever I happen to be up to on that particular day. I don’t think there is anything wrong with this, and it certainly helps to update my blog if I capture the pictures as I go along, but it makes me wonder what I used to do before Instagram – just three short years ago!

I find it amazing that an app can so affect how we live our lives in such a short time – Facebook and Twitter did a similar thing and I find it fascinating how our lives just seem to envelope such technology and adapt to fit it in. It makes me wonder just what the next addition could possibly be!

BBC journalist offered promotion for sex, dossier claims

BBC journalist offered promotion for sex, dossier claims

So much for women’s rights! What were women like Emmeline Pankhurst and Emily Davison fighting for if this is all the years of struggling for equality has amounted to? Where is the basic respect for, not just women, but for our fellow workers and colleagues? When one is at work, it should not be a matter of gender or sexuality. I believe whole-heartedly that both men and women should be treated fairly depending on their talents and hard work, not promoted based on their looks or flirtation with more senior members of staff. It is disgusting and saddens me to think that this could be going on more often than we are aware of purely because people don’t think to report it, or are not sure how to without losing their job altogether. The BBC should be ashamed for letting such a thing happen.